Markings of Power
by Shini-Kender
Summary: While stripping Grimmjow of his rank, Ulquiorra lets him know his place, under him in more than one way. UlquiGrimm


The bindings rose and fell along with every breath the sleeping arrancar made and deadened eyes watched every move. Ulquiorra was not one to waste his time like this, but he had seen the matter from the beginning and he would see it through until the end. He had watched as Grimmjaw began to withdraw from the Espada, spending less and less time in the presence of Aizen's most loyal and powerful ten and more time with the lesser-ranked, the arrancar marked only in order of their birth.

Ulquiorra had seen the light and fire in Grimmjaw's eyes, the rage that danced through them during his report. He had known then exactly what Grimmjaw had planned to do. There was no bother stopping him. Ulquiorra saw no point in trying to block the inevitable. Aizen would be displeased, but that displeasure would not be directed towards him. And if Grimmjaw did not fail, his loyalty was such that his success would not threaten Ulquiorra's own position. Besides, even if Grimmjaw had succeeded in eliminating the shinigami with his weak compatriots, he would have ruined Aizen's game. Boredom, it seemed, was the death of the powerful shinigami who had made a pact with the Menos. And having something to look after, like the young anomaly Kurosaki Ichigo, kept his mind active and plotting while he waited to set his plans in motion.

Nevertheless, Grimmjaw had failed and it was Ulquiorra's gifted eyes that recorded every second of that failure, from his defiant entry to the even cockier words to Tousen. He had watched in silence from the shadows as Grimmjaw lost his arm forever. He had wrinkled his nose at the sour scent of burnt flesh as it permeated the room. He had watched without a word as Grimmjaw turned and stormed away without a word at Aizen's reprimand.

Ulquiorra had overheard the medical arrancar's orders to restrain the sixth of the Espada after he nearly refused the basic medical care for his arm. He had waited until Grimmjaw fell asleep before settling here, dark eyes watching him as he slept.

Grimmjaw was truly Aizen's most loyal arrancar in all ways but one, something that had always bothered Ulquiorra. While it seemed the blue-haired arrancar understood the man's ideals, wanted to do what it took to accomplish them, he never seemed to know how to please the leader as well. He'd do what he thought was best to accomplish Aizen's goals, never taking into mind that Aizen, perhaps less so than Ichimaru, but still to a point, enjoyed the game and the challenge just as much as he looked forward to the end result as well. While Aizen reveled in drama and deviousness, Grimmjaw was straightforward, doing only what it took to get to where he wanted.

Ulquiorra almost envied that in him, as he smoothed down the white bandages, loosened in sleep. That simple movement was enough to jolt the other arrancar, however. Ice-blue eyes, with the same clarity of the blue sky Ulquiorra had only seen a few times since his rebirth, jerked open, fixing darkly on the intruder to their rest.

"Ulquiorra," Grimmjaw growled, irritably, rising about an inch from the bed before realizing how fruitless the effort was. He slammed back against the bed, the sound of it hitting the wall filled the room.

"It isn't wise to move," he said, softly, perhaps a bit belatedly even.

The distrust was evident in Grimmjaw's eyes as he spat, "I know that, now. What're ya doin' here?" He didn't even want to think what Aizen's self-serving lap dog was up to while he was alseep.

Ulquiorra didn't bother to answer, eyes turning to the bindings, pale fingers reaching out to trace over them. They were smooth, darkened by the reiatsu infused in each. "Like an animal..." he murmured.

"What?"

Deadened eyes never moved from their focus as he drew away his fingers, "That's exactly how they'd bind an animal," the eyes roved to fix on Grimmjaw's snarling face, "The way you're bound, that is."

The snarl only grew. "The hell. do. you. want, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjaw hissed, jerking against the bindings. Ulquiorra's very presence, not to mention the off-handed commentary about his condition, was pissing him off. If he could just get his fucking arm to work, it'd be...

He paused, the raw pain of the event coming back to him. His own goddamn arm was gone. Damn Tousen, damn him to hell. And damn his sibling for showing up right now. Ulquiorra was the last person he wanted to see, smugly rubbing his failure in his face. Smugly rubbing in the deaths of Il Forte, Shaw Long, Di Roy, Edorad, and Nakim.

Ulquiorra didn't say a word in response, rolling up the layers of bandages, sinking darkened nails into the only just healing flesh.

Grimmjaw jerked up, hissing a curse and Ulquiorra snagged the edge of Grimmjaw's mask, holding it still as he dipped his fingers into the congealing blood. "You're lucky it wasn't Aizen-sama, but Tousen-sama who you angered with your actions." He lifted bloody fingers to his face, inspecting them lightly before flickering out his tongue to taste them, sending Grimmjaw's stomach flipping and making his chest tighter.

"Yeah, big fucking break. Losin' an arm is nothin', right?"

Ulquiorra shook his head, leaning forward to lap at the wound, "They say dog saliva can kill germs, disinfect wounds," his lips pressed against a hint of bone, "Too bad I don't have any of that."

Grimmjaw shuddered, "The hell are you doing, then!?"

Ulquiorra glanced sideways, fingers leaving red trails as they traced over Grimmjaw's bare chest and the thick scar on his chest, "I'm making sure you learn from this."

"Yeah, since losin' an arm was so DAMN fun, I'm sure as hell gonna try it again."

He gave him a droll look, "Of course you are. As soon as this heals, as soon as Aizen-sama lets you into the mortal world again, you'll go after him again." His fingers slid down, unsnapping the release that allowed the bindings to open.

Before Grimmjaw was half up, the smaller arrancar jerked him downwards, pressing Grimmjaw to the table, the other arrancar's body still shaking from the recovering wounds, the pain reawakened by Ulquiorra's fingers.

"That's why, Grimmjaw," Ulquiorra continued; reaching up to curl his fingers in Grimmjaw's hair, blue threading through white. "I cannot allow you to do that as an Espada." He had his orders. He'd prevent Grimmjaw from disgracing the name of the Espada, Aizen's elite. He'd prevent Aizen from ever looking Grimmjaw's way again.

He rested his slight weight on Grimmjaw's protesting body, free hand working away the tattoo, the pride and joy of only ten favored by Aizen enough to bear it. And with the last few strokes, he leaned forward, thin lips, still stained with Grimmjaw's blood, pressing between Grimmjaw's shoulder blades, "Because, Tousen-sama only removed your arm. I'll be the one to ruin your chances of Aizen-sama ever looking your way again."

Ulquiorra's fingers dipped into the raw wound once more, "The only one Aizen-sama needs is myself. And, now, the only one you'll need is me." 


End file.
